Oh, that’s basketball, but still, appropriate in my view, since P3 is getting down to cases and I think I can semi-write the script the next few days. Come on along, I bet we have roughly the same hazy, inchoate ideas.

The “Hoosiers”-like scenario is gonna lead us into Xanadu, only without much pleasure, just stuck in a cave without a whole lot of players. If we’re down to few defensive backs like the caption implies, we know that our injured players are not going to return from the Emergency Room from Milford General with a Band-Aid on their arm, kissed by the nurse, and get back on the football field, pumped for action.

Therefore, Gil is Norman Dale, forced to work with a depleted or minuscule roster, only Norman did more with a town 1/10 the size of Milford, if that’s any omen (catch the hint, Thorpiverse) . And after another one goes down with malaria and another elopes with Raquel Welch, the script is going to force Gil’s hand, with the very likelihood that he’ll be confronted with whether to put in Tiki or not.

Hmmmmmmmm. Do I teach Tiki Life’s Lessons that’s says the game is bigger than you or me, therefore, as a matter of principle, I will not put you in even if Madison has 56 players and I only have one (Tiki, of course) after the other players shot their foot, took an early exit to The Bucket cuz they got The Munchies, went to their relatives for Thanksgiving, etc.?

Or do I go ahead and put you in and kick the winning field goal (just use your imagination how the ball got snapped) , hoping the 56 Madison players won’t block it and risk being called ‘unprincipled’? At least I’d have another “W” under my belt and we can warm up the buses as Dickie V. used to always say.

Whichever way Norman Dale/Ivan Boesky goes, it can’t be anymore difficult than trying to figure out WHAT is being thrown in P3. I’m going out on a limb and will say that Elroy Jetson catches those at his game (was All-Universe his junior year, his team signing a contract to play Milford in 2021) .

Gil opens the door to his office after being interrupted on his computer, attempting to engineer an illegal download on Cannonball Adderly

“Yes?”

It’s a soddy-looking man with a huge satchel in his arms. Gil wonders how he got past the hall monitor and a bit disappointed it wasn’t a student soliciting him for advice like Gil’s been distributing for the last 60 years. Oh, well, if he tries anything funny, I have this Magnum in my back pocket I borrowed from Dirty Harry, who is on lunch break down at The Bucket.

“May I help you?”

Gil’s got his manners on his person. He’s even using good grammar. Good start.

“Hello, I’m Simon Snidely, second-cousin to Snidely Whiplash, and I just got out of Milford Detention Center a week ago. I’ve tried to go straight but the burglary itch has caught me and I have to scratch it. I promise to go level after that. Do you mind if I steal maybe a couple of trophies and some money you have in your safe by the file cabinet?”

“Oh now, wait a minute, I’ve fallen for this before and every time I do, I wind up with a set of encyclopedias. You surely saw the large print set of World Book on my cabinet the other day. The TWIMers sure as Hell did.”

“No, no, I’ve just come in to steal a few things, that’s all. That gold-plated watch you got from the President of the United States during Bicentennial week looks valuable. I could make a mint on the black market, y’know.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOO NO!!!!!!!! I once had Pretty Boy Floyd step into my office and the next thing you know, I wound up with Encyclopedia Britannica, the 52-volume Bilingual Edition, Roget’s Thesaurus as a free gift. I couldn’t wedge that damn set between the ’81 and ’94 basketball team portraits on the wall and had to buy some TV trays at Lowes to accommodate the rest of the collection. It looked kinda funny stacking the ‘P’s in English next to all the words in Spanish that used tildes. Did you ever try to shoehorn ‘Pittsburgh’ next to ‘manana’?”

“DON’T EVEN BRING UP ‘DILLINGER’!!!!!!!!!!!!! He sold me some Collier’s Encyclopedia 241st Anniversary Edition. Said George Washington carried them around during the Revolutionary War and the ‘G’ got shot through at Trenton. Sez some rookie soldier mistook it for a Redcoat who was reading his Bible. Got 30 days in the brig for that. And George read them in his idle time at Valley Forge. Used his Highlighter to note the things that interested him. Then that cad told me that George personally autographed it. An expert who came into my office later on who was concerned with his son’s playing time on the JV squad agreed to look at the ‘autograph’ if Kaz would start him in the Conference Finals. Boy, was I taken. He said George never used Paper-mate but Bic. I put the whole damn set on a shelf just above the toilet in my office bathroom. Coach Shaw loves to look at the rifle section when he’s dumping a load.”

Sir, I assure you, I am just here to grab a few things without paying for them, now if you’ll excuse me, I like that 2014 Football Team Championship Composite, valuable since with your coaching, it might be a while before you win another one…”

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And I don’t even want to discuss the time Manson tried to sell me Childcraft.”

And doncha just love the “Fantasia” feel in P1? Where are the hippos and the crocs dancing to Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite” when you need ’em? Oh wait, THEY’RE HERE!!!!!!!! I think the Madison defensive back’s a hippo, not for sure, got a bad angle.

Gang, if you’re in Valley Station, Kentucky at Mapco, stop on in. I went in the evening and the ladies there helped me get some great Chester’s Fried Chicken. They made some great suggestions that worked out better than the menu, although the menu is GREAT too. They put in my favorite condiments and brought my order up to the front and did so with a smile. Now THAT’S service. And the food was excellent. Gang, support Small Business. You need a place where everyone knows your name.

One day at lunch time at The Bucket, the students and adults intermingling in their booths, a strange phenomenon is occurring but nobody can finger what it is. Some strangers have graced the joint but Dirty Harry is not paying attention, he’s too caught up in the Milford Enquirer, checking out the Mudlark football score plus Bikel & Ebert’s Movie Review (“Milford Overrun By Locusts On The Planet Of The Apes”-Bikel gave it a THUMBS UP, Ebert gave it a THUMBS DOWN-“Too smarmy, locusts looked like Barney the Dinosaur”) . One of the strangers is slurping on a Bucket Cherry Shake, medium-sized, another is in another booth, vomiting on a Bucket Livercheeseburger, a third and fourth are sharing a Bucket Blue Tortilla Chips Appetizer Bowl, a fifth is taking a piss in the men’s room, and a sixth is eating Bucket Organic Brownies and Meatless Bucket Triple Cheese Burger while reading the Milford Racing News. there are no more thugs pretending to be a Mudlark because Dirty Harry has only 6 bullets in his Magnum. But don’t put it past Thorpiverse to try.

Mildred is dumping layers and layers of mustard and gobs and gobs of pickles on Dirty Harry’s Bucket Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Deluxe. Harry’s too engrossed in the Mudlark football news as he’s disgusted that Milford gave up too much yardage against Jefferson.

“Geez, why doesn’t Gil bring back Vince Packard? He might have been loose with his gambling debts but his teams played with hair on their chests”, he befoggedly asks Mildred who adds a cherry to the pile. Harry totes his to-go order out to his squad car and gets in ready to drive off, helping Joe Friday investigate Kaz’s stolen riding mower. (Later found in his senile grandmother’s yard) . He listens to “Love me, love me, go on and love me…” on his radio, takes a bite of his sandwich and consequently spits the bite out. it is LOADED with mustard and pickles. Oh, and Honey Nut Cheerios, although the latter was a mistake, they just hired a new cook.

“All right, ya done real good with that cop, now it’s time ta quit playin’, hand over all yo’ money, jewelry, credit cards, you name it, WE WANT IT!!!!!!” as the thugs finally get up and start picking people clean. People, students and adults alike frantically go through their wallets and school bags, one student hands a thug a coupon good for the next free piece of Bucket Chess Pie, whipped cream extra. The gratified thug takes it and runs. Marty hands a thug his media credentials. The thug will be happy slaying Gil at the next football game. Mimi digs through her piggy bank and tries to come up with ANYTHING that’ll stave off the hoods when one of them say

“C’mon, Honey, you comin’ wit’ me, we gonna have a party!!!!!!!!!! as the thug grabs Mimi by the hair which she just permed at Milford Beauty Solutions. Ah, you know thugs.

Suddenly, Dirty Harry comes out of Camp Swampy next door.

The thugs all stop pillaging and size up the enemy. (“The enemy is this plot”)

Dirty Harry thanks Lieutenant Fuzz for the ride, then turns around facing the thugs.

“Every day for the last 60 years, Mildred has put 2 packets of Gulden’s Mustard and 4 Vlasic Pickle Slices on my Bucket Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Deluxe.

Today, she put 1,876 packets worth of mustard and pickles running all over the sandwich, some had children which a few of those went on to MIT and Stanford, some got their GED’s, some had in-laws, some in-bred, some had illegitimate pickles, some ended up in my Bucket Triple Chocolate Shake. Did you ever try to suck a pickle throiugh a straw? Or an onion? I thought Mildred dropped one of croutons in my shake again.

Now you boys put those guns down and let’s head down to Milford Detention Center.”

“Say what, suckuh?” says Thug #1, holding Mimi an Uzi at Mimi’s head. Mimi is worried the perm will frizz out if the thug pulls the trigger. And Gil is in Oakwood for the Annual Conference Pre-Season Basketball Luncheon and he’s the keynote speaker (“…I always run a box-and-one on the Celtics, you can’t hold down Larry Bird, you can only contain him…”) .

“Well. You boys didn’t think we were just gonna let you walk out of this plot, did you?”

“Who’s ‘we’, suckuh?” as the other thugs are filching the car hops’ tips.

“Me and Smith & Wesson” as Dirty Harry pulls out his spare Magnum, the other, as mentioned, loaned to Gil.

BLAAAAMMMMMMMMMM

Thug #1 goes down, letting go of Mimi, who ducks under a table with Steve Luhm.

Thug #2 tries to run out the door with somebody’s wallet and Thug #2’s carry-out order of Bucket o’ Egg Plants ‘n’ Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies (thugs get hungry too and eat at The Bucket) .

BLAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM

Thug # 2 goes down right before he hits the door, glass all over the Bucket o’ Egg Plants (delicacy on some planet, I reckon) .

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM as the Bucket Chili Fries from the Combo land in Dr. Pearl’s beehive while she takes cover under a table. Thug #3 splays on a booth and crushes a student’s Bucket Banana Split.

Thug #4 and Thug #5 get on the tandem bike and pedal towards the emergency exit, careful not to spill their Mudlar-K-Cola, nudged in the cup-holder of the bike, the grocery sack of stolen cash and credit cards strapped to the back.

Dirty Harry is up to the task. He gets a slight bit of indigestion from all the grease in the Chili Fries and BLLAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM’s awry but not a second time.

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dirty Harry rings true, giving credibility to the Single Bullet Theory, shooting through both of them and they go down like bowling pins, lifeless.

Ms. Rizk, her first time out of her Journalism office since the Gay ’90’s due to a date with Luhm, shouts

THE PLOT IS COMING BACK TO LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Finally, Thug #6 is on the ground in obvious pain cuz the cook fried his Bucket Pork Tenderloin in a Sea of Bucket Mayo and has the stomach cramps big-time. He spots a sawed-off shotgun left by one of the dead gunmen, just under The Bucket Hall of Fame Employee banner.

“Uh uh uh.” pointing Magnum at Thug # 6.

“I know what you’re thinking. But this is a Magnum, the most powerful weapon in the world and it can blow your head clean off.

Now in all this excitement, which is more than I can say for the Mudlark’s football-playing, I kinda lost count. Was it ‘5’ or was it ‘6’? Do you feel lucky, punk?”

Thug #6 takes one more look at sawed-off shotgun, farting a wad in the process from the sandwich. The stench probably tips the scale on his decision.

“Well, do you?”

Thug #6, not willing to find out if it’s the lady or the tiger, withdraws his hand. Marty grabs shotgun, tempted to use it on his boss at WDIG, but hands over to the Milford Police.

September 20, 2018

Dad, you’re 80 years old today. You are a major reason for this blog. Thanks for all your encouragement in ANYTHING I’ve set out to do. I love you.

P1: “Coach, remember the time when you said that if you had broccoli in your teeth, you’d want to know about it?”

Which typifies the aborted inspiration Coach Thorp attempts to instill in his players. The only problem is, and maybe it’s just me, but don’t you old-timers remember when Gil was going the Dr. Norman Vincent Peale Power of Positive Thinking Route, the player(s) would perform something that may not have been drawn up in the playbook nor, really, went the way of the Thorpscript but turned out halfway decent? Now it just seems like every time Gil dispenses his Pearls of Wisdom, it reads like a bad Kung-Fu episode.

“Grasshopper, you have nothing to fear from the 458-lb. defensive tackle that you’re blocking this Friday. Just remember your technique, hit him low, and tell him his mother still reads him bedtime stories. Talk trash to him and you can take him out of his game.”

“Yes, Master.”

SQUASHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Watch where you’re driving that equipment truck. Now we’ll never find him in this high grass.”

And, again, maybe it’s just me(what happens when you develop writer’s cramp in your old age) but do we really need another Polygrip Moment as in P1? I know Gil is 60 years old but if he’s been drinking milk and eating his fruits and vegetables and, in general, been a poster child for the 4 food groups, then, unless his teeth were made out of balsa wood, they should still BE IN PLACE. Otherwise, why does he feel the need to flash those dentures to Freddy or the zombies in the background?

“He won’t suffer any more embarrassing incidents, such as watching his teeth pop out of his mouth and land on the sod when he jumps up and down after his place kicker sends the winning 69-yarder through the uprights. Try the new Polygrip with Fluoride. Occlusive seals never felt stronger and grass stains are a thing of the past. Only at Milford Pharmacy.”

The Milford Police are still baffled by WHO SHOT COACH SHAW. You’d think in a small town that’s been on the planet for 60 years where EVERYBODY KNOWS EVERYBODY in the same period of time that the culprit would have nowhere to run. Well, that’s not entirely true, if I were to shoot a man who barely shows up on the radar at football games but is a weather advisory at game film sessions (The National Weather Service has issued a Shaw Warning Advisory in effect until 10:15PM this evening, Mudlark Standard Time. There are reports of damaging winds and BB-sized hail. Power lines, as a result of multiple lightning incidents are down in parts of Oakwood, New Thayer, Lake Forest, as well as the Mudlarkland viewing area. Please seek shelter immediately…”) , I would head to the nearest skyscraper in downtown Milford and lay low on the 63rd floor of the Milford Mutual Tower until this thing blew over. And that’s probably what this psycho is thinking. No headin’ to the Milford Lounge for Miller time after the deed is done.

At the bar counter “Mr. Bates, wanna ‘nuther Bud before I close up?”`

Coach Shaw at the Bates Motel

The shower curtain opens

DINGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!! DINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!! DINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!

“NO GET AWAY FROM ME YOU GONNA PUNISH ME CUZ I MISSED A FILM SESSION I HAD TO GO THE DENTIST…”

NO GET AWAY FROM ME YOU CAN’T STICK ME JUST CUZ I CAN’T STICK YOU YOU GONNA PUNISH ME FOR GOIN’ LIMP JUST CUZ I CHOWED ON TOO MUCH ON 3 PASTA SALAD AT FAZOLI’S WISH I HAD MY WINCHESTER IN THE BATHTUB…”

And to address bathrooms in public buildings with stalls that have become as big as a dining room suite

“Gil, we can get a graduate assistant to work on Malouf’s hands. He’s definitely not hopeless.”

“I agree, Kaz, looking at the game film here, I saw a lot of positives. He and Finn-

FLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Coach Shaw appears

“Oooooooooooooeeeeeeeee, man, was THAT a big-time load. Musta been the spicy parmesan in the Domino’s pepperoni.”

And what Gil Thorp strip in any sport, football, basketball, baseball, hockey, bowling, wrestling (HIGH SCHOOL wrestling, not the stuff you see down at the Milford Gardens, you Jerry Lawler freaks) track, X-country, volleyball, golf, curling (just seeing if you’re paying attention) , without Marty Moon enjoying his Lowenbrau Moment (take that over Polygrip Moment anytime) ?

I can see the commercial

“Here’s to good friends, tonight is kinda special…”

Marty and his old high school classmates cram into Marty’s broadcast booth. As long as nobody throws a quick elbow, the Lowenbrau won’t wind up in the cheese popcorn.

“Gentlemen, watching Gil get waxed just makes my night. It just don’t get any better than this.”

“That’s Old Milwaukee, Marty.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, Gene. Anytime I can stick it to Coach T with a kicker with a World Cup foot but Yogi Bear hands, it just makes the Lowenbrau that much sweeter.”

“Yeah, and it’s less filling.”

“Tastes great.”

LESS FILLING

TASTES GREAT

LESS FILL-

As Marty squeezes one of his classmates in a Sleeper Hold, we softly hear

“Toniiiiiggghhhhttttt, let it be Lowenbrau.”

Sent forth on a quest from TV Land

Bringing Truth and Justice in our hands

It’s Milkmannnnnnnnnn

Milkman walks into Milford Lounge. He just made a delivery of two crates of 2% and some Philadelphia Cream Cheese Raspberry and Philadelphia Cream Cheese Gooseberry. Happy Hour is never the same without something to top the appetizer, like pretzels or shredded black ham. He’s taking his 15-minute break.

Marty is submerged in his beer. Talk about Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.

“Why are you drowning in your sorrows, Marty?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Look, I’m in no mood to talk to a guy who’s as out of place here as a stray dog in heat at the AKC International Dog Show. Take your milk and cookies and hit the road, Jack.”

“Actually, Marty, I did bring some Chips Ahoy and some egg nog. I’m still on break so technically the bartender can’t say anything.”

Tired of drinking after his 17th Bud Light

“I got suspended for swearing on the air.”

“Well, Marty, saying ‘Die, you gravy-sucking, testicle-licking, ass-kissing, pubic hair-combing piece of cow manure wasn’t the wisest thing to say. But I was once suspended for two weeks.”

Marty looks up. Milkman is winning him over.

“That’s right, I was released from my duties for telling the supervisor in front of several members of the 3rd shift crew on the Country Crock Cinnamon Butter production line that the milk was so bad here, there was no difference between that and what came out of an elephant’s boobs in Rwanda at the Nature Reserve. I was young and stupid and without a paycheck for two weeks. Hard to pay the pawn shop for a Gibson Guitar, let alone buy Fruit of the Looms at K-Mart when you have no money. Marty, we’ve all put our feet in our mouths. Maybe you need a shoehorn every once in a while, oh, OK, every week, but we have all said things we wish we could reel back later. Yours is just a 60-lb. striped bass that requires a tow truck to haul in on The Fishing Channel. That’s the only difference. Plus, I don’t wear a goatee. Homogenized milk would look nasty on it.”

“Gee, thanks, Milkman. I’ll go get a gallon of regular milk and apologize to Gil for being such a nasty creep. I’ll even throw in that I shouldn’t have called Mimi a prostitute.”

“Aaaaaaaaa, Marty, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s taken 60 years to wean yourself from your SNAKE nomenclature. It might take 60 more ’til it’s out of your system but you’re getting the idea..

“Sorry, bartender. Would you like some Philadelphia Cream Cheese Hazelnut before I go?”

Heard at the Milford Adult Book Store between two employees during a dead period (Mondays are always like that)

“You think it was David Greene?”

“He might have attacked Marty Moon that one time but Shaw’s performance was on the Sabbath.”

At the Milford Kohl’s, Marty Moon is trying on some Dickie pants. He’s attempting to find out if he’s gained any weight or grown any since he switched from WMFD to WDIG (“Marty, I swear, you’ve grown since you transferred. You ever think of trying out for the team?”) .

He is currently debating 42/32 or 40/38. His growth spurt perhaps out of control from all the Pabst Blue Ribbons at the Milford Lounge (Milford Enquirer, May 15, 2011 article: “Beer Drinking Stimulates Pituitary Gland, Releasing Growth Hormones, Studies Reveal at the Milford Community College!!!) . He tries on the 42.

There’s a hitch. The problem with dressing room doors is that they’re manufactured from the same company that produces saloon doors. Marty’s dressing room door is created from the same design of the door of the saloon Wild Bill Hickok died at from “Dead Man’s Hand”.

“PEEKABOO!!!!!!!!!!”

“Peaches, dammit!!!!!!! Can’t you see I’m dressing??

“Oh, you sexy tart, that’s THE IDEA. I thought we might get a little comfy before you try on any more Richards.”

“Dickies.”

“Whatever, same name, different sex organ, but gets us both erect, that’s all that matters.”

“Peaches, I gotta get my uniforms tried on before I hit the nightshift tonight. Can’t it wait until tomorrow morning? I’ll still have a little octane in the tank before I hit the sack.”

“Doll, I’m not rumblin’ at the jungle gym where the kids can see me butt naked.”

“Oh, Marty, don’t be a party pooper. Life is more than Mini-bus manifests and beer nuts at the Milford Lounge, let alone going up and down at the teeter-totter with members of the same sex, even if you’re both butt-naked. Now drop ’em and let’s have a little fun,”

She rips the pants button off the unpaid merchandise only to find out that something else is unaccounted for.

“Ummmmm, never mind.”

“Peaches, you barge in like Jesse James holding up the Last Gulch Saloon and now you just pack u[ and leave with no loot?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t shoot you cold dead with no gold in the vault.”

“Honey, I’m harder than a rock and I’m not even trying. Why don’t you make yourself at home as long as you’ve wrecked my schedule.”

“Kinda hard when you’re not hard.”

“How dare you stiff me like that when I’m trying to do my job?”

“You could bust out of this saloon door and not only would no one notice the dearth of stiffness, you wouldn’t have ANY jobs, payroll or non-payroll.”

The manager walks by

“Is there a problem here? Oh, it’s you, Marty. I see that it’s nothing at all.”

“Rest my case.”

“When you can’t get embarrassed when you’re displaying nothing in your birthday suit, it’s time to hit the Milford Men’s Clinic. They have programs that work, now including Milford Men’s Clinic Quik-Fix Pump injections to avoid those awful surprises like the one I had. I’d rather spend a night at Peaches’ mother’s house. ALONE. Isn’t it time you filled your Dickie pants with more than just pants? So that it’s more than just a pun? Sure you do. My britches feel fine and I do do too. You’re gonna like the way you look. And pump. I guarantee it.”

September 7, 2018

Apologies to the late Vincent Price for the title of todays post– in the Brady Bunch episode where they went to Hawaii and the boys run into him playing a professor who then ties them to the tikis in his cave; when he lets them loose and then tells them to return to them they randomly pick one and he then yells “Take any tiki!”

Well there is no human named Tiki Jansen on Google but apparently he’s the potential starting QB for the Larks this year. So he aint any Tiki thats for sure. Marty takes the low road in P1, suggesting that if they dont have an all-star at the position, they are screwed. Maybe, but even if they arent, Gil will find a way to make it so, either by changing the offense mid-season or by under-coaching the rest of the unit so they cant function as one.

P2- is Gil comparing Tiki to a lottery ticket? Hmmm.. methinks he’s suggesting he knows damn well he got lucky in some way and its not one iota from his good coaching.

This has to have gone down as the Gil Thorp arc with the least amount of actual sports action ever. It also has to be near the top of arcs requiring the greatest suspension of disbelief. On top of all we’ve had to choke down around Marty, Pirate Boy and the Milford Pirate Network (does one station constitute a network?), now we’re supposed to believe that WDIG has at least three studios? Couldn’t at least one of them held Marty’s substitute, re-creating the basketball games Ronald Reagan style while Marty was suspended?

Marty played his traditional role of designated heel, between making light of the Padillas’ life situation, the gratuitous Mexican food references (intended to woo a potential sponsor but interpreted as “Puerto Ricans/Mexicans are all alike and their cultures all the same”) and the mispronunciation/pissy over-pronunciation in response to criticism. But really, Gil doesn’t come off as much less of a schmuck either. True, he couldn’t have anticipated the tack the MPN took on covering Milford hoops – nor Marty’s blue response to them – but he did in effect goad them on to goad Marty on. His ham-handed efforts at negotiation showed how little he thinks of Milford girls’ basketball and required us to connect the dots and assume Marty’s suspension would turn into termination if Marty didn’t accede.

Finally, Gil’s little dig at Marty in the last panel (yet another in which characters depart via a doorway), meant to remind Marty of the Boricua culture of which he is so ignorant, comes off a bit dickish as well. I’ll admit I like the idea of Marty as Scooby-Doo villain, but wouldn’t that mean he’s actually somebody else under a rubber mask? My money’s on Dr. Pearl.

April 21, 2018

Ok – – first of all – sorry profusely about yesterday. Yes I was busy but I still had a bit of time to knock this out and just plain forgot. I know you dont mind That Much… so here goes…

The terms of Martys punishment are being laid out both today (Friday) and tomorrow (today). He has to go back to school (yikes) and learn Latin-American history. Maybe if we’re lucky he will learn to speak Latin too. Everyone that speaks Latin is dead, or will be shortly. So good luck with that.

Its an online class so he can do it in his underwear, or better yet, in the buff. Nobodys looking.

And – how about this — he will broadcast a girls game for the first time. Woo-hoo. I guess all those other games the box narration was the “announcer”.

Plus he has 2 more weeks to not announce basketball like all the other basketball announcers who have been done since oh, April 2nd. Well there’s still the NBA but we arent counting that.

How about how the kids get away with the shenanagans involving distracting a paid announcer from doing his job, and he gets punished but they get off scott free? Comment on that if you want..

Unsold ad time? Why not use that time to give public service messages about the situation in Puerto Rico?

Again thanks for your patience. We now resume regularly scheduled programming.

If you were plugged into the 24/7 news cycle yesterday, you know that much of Puerto Rico has gone dark again. You also know that that didn’t stop The Show from going on… unlike in Pleasantville Milford, where suspending Marty stops the show dead in its tracks.

Rubin is forcing us to connect many dots today as he lurches toward an awkward, tone-deaf ending to this underwhelming, once-promising arc. The first dot is Gil’s acknowledgement that Karina, at his suggestion, instigated the Milford Pirate Boy Network and thus had a hand in bringing about Marty’s suspension. The second dot is that Gil convinced the Padillas’ and Karina’s teacher to let them skip class (he has a history of doing this, y’know) to sit around the most lovingly rendered cafeteria table in comics history and decide on Marty’s penance. The third dot (and maybe several more after that) is that whatever terms the kids decided on were presented by Gil to Pocket Square Sporting Radio Station Manager, who accepted them and delivered them to Marty as an ultimatum – agree to these or you’re fired.

All of this unfolded even more slowly than Boo Radley’s fatal car crash, but faster than the full restoration of Puerto Rico’s power grid. In a world where teens can tweet and stand against social injustice while adults cower and hedge, all of this would’ve played out in the course of a week. We could’ve been treated with two months of Drunken Uber Driver Marty Moon dumpster diving for the dregs of Johnnie Walker bottles and begging for a cameo on Pirate Boy’s YouTube livestream.

So sit back and buckle up for the last few days of this bumpy ride. Me, I’m off in search of some Pudge Coffee. (Seriously. Check it out. Not affiliated with Pudge or his coffee.)

Today’s strip just serves to bring the glaring plot holes, inconsistencies and missed opportunities into stark relief, not unlike Marty’s face in P2. Without belaboring the obvious – oh, who am I kidding? Let’s belabor the obvious:

If an Aagard scores 26 points and there’s no one there to report on it, does it make a sound? Last winter’s saga of Aaron and his opioid-addicted mother ended with his transfer into the protective custody of the Hiatt-Brown family. Rubin brought Aaron back this season, but Big Ken Brown is no longer around to make things happen. Couldn’t those loose ends have been tied up in a panel?

Nice use of parallel drinking by the not-broadcasting broadcasters, one with hooch, the other with Yoo-Hoo (or does that just say “Poo”?). The glaring sign behind Marty’s head must be meant to offer a contrast to his apparent sour mood. It also offers a nice segue into a song parody but I fear those days are behind me. The idea that WDIG can’t or won’t run games without Marty to call them borders on the absurd. Absurd doesn’t begin to describe the Milford Pirate Network’s approach to the games. If they’d been up front about why they popped up then played it straight, they’d still be on the air and no one would’ve cared that there was no coverage from Marty and WDIG. But noooo, MPN based its whole schtick on taunting Marty, so no Marty, no MPN. For that matter…

… no Marty, no Gil to antagonize or be antagonized by Marty. Hence Gil’s call on Pocket Square Sporting Radio Station Manager to no doubt try to get Marty back on the air. As with his meeting with Marty, Gil’s on neutral ground where drinks are involved but this time it’s only coffee (unless Gil’s secretly making it Irish).

If all this is a pivot towards turning this strip from Gil Thorp into Marty Moon, I could be persuaded to stick around. The travails of a drunken shock jock looking to redeem himself to unwitting victims of his shock doesn’t cover new ground but it has potential.

late metapost: Over lunch I came across this article about Latinos attempting to assimilate in the American South. No one in the story is Puerto Rican, but it touches on an angle Rubin has chosen not to pursue to much extent in this arc.

Okay, so Gil’s not meeting Marty at his crate shack but on neutral ground. Dunno why Gil acts so surprised: he knows Marty’s a known souse and it’s not like Gil doesn’t knock back a few every now and then, in public, even. Marty’s got his Captain Haddock brows working again and, yeah, he wants Gil to clean up his mess.

That weak-assed excuse for a mea culpa doesn’t fly anymore, if it ever did. Everyone and her brother knows that “I’m sorry you were offended by my actions” is not the same as “I’m sorry for my actions.” There’s a few dots here that haven’t been connected – like how Marty thinks all of this is the Padillas’ doing – but hey, baseball season is a week old so let’s wrap this thing up, shall we?

Now I guess we just sit back and wait to see what level of public apology from Marty will suffice. An appearance with Pirate Nebbish Boy from MPN seems more than likely.